Corollaries
by Elsyra
Summary: Summary: It's America's special day, filled with fun, fireworks, and one unforgettable surprise. Everything is going perfectly, so why does he feel that something is strangely off? And why the heck did his Iggy disappear, leaving him with only an odd letter? The hero must investigate! Independence Day story. USUK fluff.


A/N: Once again, hey, ya'all! A very happy birthday to one Alfred F. Jones, aka America, aka the most super mega foxy awesome hero ever! Last year, I posted a fluffy Independence Day fanfiction called "The Reason Why" and I have decided to make this a yearly tradition to honour my country and its freedom, not to mention fanfiction. This continuation includes an established USUK relationship-thanks to the previous story-and more adorable, hilarious fun. Thank you, Hetalia.

As I stated in the last A/N, I am so proud to be American. Over the course of this summer, I have been painting landscapes while I travel to different locations, which has given me an even bigger appreciation for America's beauty and splendor. D'aaaaw, now Alfie's blushing. ^_^ Well, to whatever you believe in, wherever you come from, and on whatever side you stand—good tidings and fortune to you. USA forever!

P.S. This fic is rated K+ for very fluffy slash romance. Sugary fluff may cause cavities, so please brush your teeth after reading. No cursing, violence, etc. Enjoy! :)

* * *

When Alfred F. Jones opened his ocean blue eyes, he was already sitting up in bed and grinning like an idiot-at least, that's how his would describe it.

Of course, thinking of his Iggy only widened Alfred's near ridiculous smile. Judging by that odd scent wafting in from their kitchen, the personification of Britain had been up for a while already.

Alfred drank in the warmth of their bed for a few moments longer before getting up and putting on one of Arthur's rock concert T-shirts and a pair of fitted heans. The shirt barely covered him, given the smaller nation's stature, but nothing could bother Alfred on his birthday.

His birthday. The Fourth of July. His Independence Day.

And England had left a solitary red rose beside him on the pillow.

Heartbeat quickening, Alfred picked up the flower, minding its uncut thorns. Its soft, delightful essence caressed his nose just as Iggy loved to.

Those definitely weren't tears of joy invading his eyes, no way. It would be so unheroic to cry over this sweet gesture. Alfred let out his half-sob, half-laugh here in their bedroom, lest it be interpreted negatively by Arthur. Then, he held onto his gift as he practically floated into the kitchen.

"Hello there," Arthur murmured, leaning over the counter to kiss Alfred's cheek. "Happy Birthday, love."

"My darlin' Iggy, I love you so much," he whispred into the Brit's ear, embracing him tightly. "Thank you for the rose. Our shared national flower. It's beautiful, just like you. And it makes me happy, like _us_."

Britain laughed aloud, wrapping his arms lazily about his American's waist. "Does it not? Ever the emotional sap, aren't you. Knew you would love it. But not as much as I love you."

"Definitely not," Alfred agreed, kissing his lover on the lips.

"_Comme c'est mignon!_Oh, how adorable-Elizaveta, Kiku, you might want pictures of this." France, in all of his romantic craziness had just appeared in the room, shocking Alfred into a momentary state of repetitive blinking. Both Japan and Hungary had apparently been there for some time, seeing as they had popped out from behind the breakfast nook with cameras in hand.

"Ah, already ahead of le schedule, I see," the long-haired blond commented appreciatively.

"Shove off, you bloody frog. I only invited you under a solemn oath that you would behave!" Arthur grumbled and Alfred was burying his face in the smaller man's shoulder. He murmured something softly to Alfred before glaring at the others. "Well!? Don't just stand there! Go and wait in the dining room where you're all _supposed _to be."

Matheiu, Gilbert, and Antonio had chosen that very moment to emerge from the foyer. "Kesekesekese! I guess all this romantic stuff is pretty awesome. Not as much as me, but..."

"Oh, stop it, amigo. They're so sweet together, no? I think we should go and wait for breakfast. Unless England and France need help with breakfast, in which case I volunteer myself."

"Thank you, Spain, but I think we're covered in here. Though, if you wouldn't mind wrangling everyone into the right room, that would be nice."

"No problemo. Good think Lovi is getting here late, or the cursing would already have begun. Well, _¡feliz cumpleaños _to you, America!"

As the other nations were ushered away, Alfred's blushing face was revealed to Arthur once more. They spent a long moment enveloped in each other's gaze before they finally parted. "So, you invited everyone over for breakfast? Including France, even though he annoys you. That's really sweet, Iggy."

"Funny, as I recall from this time last year, you didn't want me to have anything to do with that annoying wino. However, I'll admit that his cooking skills are unmatched. I just wanted to make this day extra special for you... It's not just your birthday, it's-"

"It's one year ago exactly that we got together. Yeah, I know," Alfred said sheepishly, and then he rubbed his nose Arthur's. "This rose-it's for us."

Arthur nodded, and he looked shy for the first time that morning. "Why don't you go join the others? I need to go check on something."

The breakfast party turned out to be a humorous affair. Of course, what else could one expect when joining a bunch of different world countries together in one room? It sounded like a funny joke to Alfred, who was very glad to be surrounded by his friends.

Feliciano was, well, his slightly ditzy pasta-loving self. Every time he opened up his mouth to say something, his brother's mouth went on a rampage that would have made a sailor blush. Luckily, Antonio was there to calm him down, or the whole breakfast would have been rather vulgar.

Ludwig, on the other had, appeared to be uncharacteristically cheerful. Sure, he didn't laugh and joke like some of the more laid-back nations, but he had a warm smile in his eyes and-if one could catch him at just the right moment-on his face. That might have been due to the fact that his arm was wrapped around Feliciano's waist with the Italian's chair placed very close to his own.

Although Alfred had never been quite as good as Kiku when sensing the mood, even _he _could decipher the German's odd behvior. He smirked to himself. Perhaps Francis' odd love-meddling habits paid off in the end...

He could not help but glare at Ivan, though. The tall, intimidating nation liked to pet the hair of a certain nation. A certain nation that happened to be sibling of the birthday nation. Alfred sighed and looked away. It felt really awkward to think about Matthew's romance life, especially when no one seemed to treat him as signigicant before, including his own brother. Alfred had felt especially bad about that, but he was determined to change that, starting by backing off and allowing Canada to be happy. That made them both feel much better.

Throughout the birthday breakfast, all the present nations chattered happily, glad to be free of the stress that always accompanied regular world meetings. One exception was Heracles, who had fallen asleep beside Kiku. Apparently, Arthur's single cat Mr. Whiskers hadn't been enough to keep him awake.

Seeing all the happy couples, Alfred's eyes flickered around to find Arthur. The green-eyed Brit, however, was nowhere to be found.

One by one, each nation said their goodbyes and filed out of the house. Francis left last, taking his time to get out the door. He wore a sneaky grin that made Alfred's stomach twist with something akin to apprehension. "Happy Birthday, _l'Amerique!_ I remember when you were _un petit lapin_. Oh, how you've matured. Here is a little something for you," he laughed, handing the other nation an envelope marked "Alfred."

"Have fun with _votre amant!_" And then he too was gone.

Alfred ran a hand through his sandy blonde locks. "Hey, Iggy! Everyone's left. Looks like it's just you, me, and a nice bottle of... Iggy? Where did you go?" His lover was no where to be found.

Had he left with the other countries? Surely he wouldn't, not on Alfred's birthday. But what if he was in trouble? What if London was under attack? What if the totally not-awesome Plutonians attacked England and no one remembered to bring a marker!?

Then, Alfred remembered the envelope from France. He tore it open in a split second to find a note written not in Francis' loopy cursive, but in Arthur's neat, elegant script.

_My beloved Alfred,_

_O, my Love's like a red, red rose,_ _That's newly sprung in July._ _O, my Love's like a melodie_ _That's sweetly play'd in the sky._ _As fair as thou, my bonnie lad,_ _So deep in love am I;_ _And I will love thee still, my dear,_ _Till a' the seas gang dry._ _Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,_ _And the rocks melt wi' the sun._ _I will love thess till, my dear,_ _While the sands o' life shall run._ _And fare thee well, my only love!_ _And fare thee well, a while!_ _And I will come again, my love,_ _Tho' it ware ten thousand mile._

_~Robert Burns (Edited by myself)_

_Meet me where we first clapped eyes upon each other. When at first we came together, I thought "So much has changed since then." Yet, in some ways, they have changed so little. _

_All my love,_

_Your Arthur_

Enclosed were papers with the address of a very close airpost, as well as a private boarding pass. From the looks of it, England had arranged for America to fly in his very own jet. But why were they flying separately? Why had he done this without telling Alfred first?

The whole idea put Alfred on edge. His note had been so vague, so serious. There was always the possibility that this letter had been some kind code meaning: "ALFRED, YOU BLOODY MORON, COME HELP ME==THEY'RE TRYING TO TAKE MY ORGANS—AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Alfred really didn't have time to go to the CIA, though, and he gathered from the information that the plane expected him very soon. So he did the logical thing. He ran all the way to the bloody airport.

Luckily, Arthur's private jet attendents had been instructed to make as comfortable as possible. In fact, Alfred soon forgot his worries. He was seated in a plush, spinny chair that smelled faintly of Arthur. The pilot's friend was serving Alfred freshly-grilled burgers for lunch, which he had to admit tasted _amazing._ They even had his favourite zombie video games to play once the My Little Pony episode finished.

When the plane started landing, he remembered himself and bounded off, refusing to take a cab. Alfred ran all the way to the field alone, trying to quell his worries with fresh air.

This place remained just the way he remembered it. Sunshine beamed down on the grassy plain, kissing a few wildflowers here and there. There were very few trees, but those that remained were strong, old, and beautiful. He leaned against the nearest one and sighed his frustration out.

"Arthur... What's going on? Why did you do this? I've been so worried about you..."

"Have you now?"

Alfred nearly jumped from his skin. But of course, a hero never reveals something like that. Instead, he swallowed his surprise and jumped into Arthur's arms. "Iggy," he whispered. "Missed you. Your note confused me. Plane ride was good."

"Oh, Alfred..."

Wide oceanic eyes peered up into veridian green. "W-why are you tearing up, Arthur? Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

The personification of England laughed; Alfred was reminded of his own feelings that very morning. His eyes widened as realization dawned on him.

"Nothing's wrong. You're happy, too," he whispered, smiling. "Just a little overcome... I get it, why you had us fly separately, I mean. You wanted time for both of us to relax and have time to ourselves. Especially me, since it's my birthday. I don't know if anyone else would have realized how important that was to both of us. Except maybe Francis. He's your best friend, as frogs go. That's why you told him to give me the-"

Then, they were kissing as if the world would end at any moment. Intense, fiery heat threatened to swallow them whole, until quenched by cool, soothing touches and whispers. A long while passed before their lips parted.

"Marry me," England said, his voice rough with passion. They both still panted for air.

"Whaa-"

"I said... Marry me. Not our bosses, nor our people. What other people think of as 'official' doesn't matter. Marry me... our cultures and personalities and our lives as humans, think of how entangled we've been since the beginning. I told you I was glad things had changed, and I wasn't lying. You're independence is one of the best things that has happened for both of us, personally. It has allowed both of us to grow and cherish one another. But I think a celebration of what _hasn't _changed is also in order..."

A lazy smirk appeared on Alfred's face. "You're still an my uptight, kinda arrogant, adorable Iggy."

"And you're still me lazy, bloody mad, irresistable prat... Marry me?"

"Hmm, I don't think you asked enough. But I suppose the hero wouldn't mind settling for four proposals..." Arthur's eyes bore into Alfred's and he laughed, kissing his lover's nose. "Yes, I'll marry you, my darlin' Iggy. I'll marry you and we'll make one heck of a team. Though, we kinda are already..."

When his Iggy kissed him, Alfred finally shut up, but only for about five minutes.

"Hey, Arthur?"

"Yes, love?"

"Does this mean I get to carry you off into the sunset like my very own princess so we can live happily ever after?"

"..."

"I won't tell Francis, I promise! Besides, we have more than enough blackmail on him anyway. He's more of a girl than any country I've ever met."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you love me for it... Hey Iggy? This is the best birthday ever. It just gets better every year. Ooh, and I get to call you my _fiance _now!"

"Alfred?"

"Huh?"

"Just do what you do best. Shut up and kiss me.

* * *

THE END!


End file.
